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The Winding Stream

Oh, give to me a winding stream, it must not be too wide

Where waving leaves from maple trees do meet from either side

The water must be deep enough to float a small canoe

With no one else but youDo not disturb my waking dream, the splendor of that winding stream

Flower in my canoe, his eyes, they looked me through

That someone there with golden hair is very much like youThe sparkling trout beneath the bank does leave his hiding place

Kingfisher from the bough above so eager to give chase

The spreading branches overhead, the sunlight peeping through

Reminding me of youDo not disturb my waking dream, the splendor of that winding stream

Flower in my canoe, his eyes, they looked me through

That someone there with golden hair is very much like you

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